(Thought-provoking guest post by Sara Wallace over at The Gospel-Centered Mom. Re-printed by express permission of Sara Wallace. Her words contain so much grace, maturity, and truth. Please understand that how you handle this topic is a family decision, and you are in no way being judged. Thank you.)

I believed in Santa.

My husband believed in Santa.

We turned out okay. We didn’t walk away from the Lord or resent our parents. Before we had kids we figured we would do the whole Santa thing. We wanted Christmas to be as special for them as it was for us. But then we actually had kids and we had a big problem.

The words that comes out of your mouth. Do they injure or attract those you love?

The words and the way my father used to talk to me when I was as young as five had a huge impact on me, and it has taken me much of my life to heal and restore from the wounds. “You’ll never have any friends looking like that!” “No wonder your classmates don’t like you!” “Why are you so thick-headed?” “Don’t disrespect me. Look at my shoes!” Such confusing messages!…

We will all do our fair share of grieving in this life, some more than others.

It’s been a few years since Robert Rogers lost his whole family in a wall of water on a rainy, dark night. This grieving man had come to play piano to the residents of the nursing home where my mother lives.

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